Morning Rituals
by Lzn64
Summary: (Seisen) He never thought she'd captivate him so completely... but every morning, she's up before the dawn... and every morning, he's there, watching her. LexAira


Author's Note: Fire Emblem is the property of Intelligent Systems and Nintendo.

* * *

He'd never been quite graceful enough for the sword. As a boy, he'd been trained in their use as was expected for a young nobleman, but he'd never progressed much farther than the most basic lessons. One could argue that the axe was in his blood; in fact, that was exactly the excuse that was used, with some pride -- the descendants of Neir, after all, had every right to be proud of their preference for the axe. What it all came down to, though, was that the sword was a graceful weapon, nothing like the blunt violence wrought by even the most skilled axe men... it was a precise art, dependant on dexterity and a myriad of other skills he'd never had.

A smile touched his lips as a lone figure, far below, crept stealthily from their latest base of operations. Her long black hair swung behind her; the morning sun, not yet strong enough to evaporate the last traces of mist still clinging to the dawn air, shone off those tresses, and he narrowed his eyes, wondering what she'd think if she were to hazard a glance his way. The thought lengthened his smile to a full grin; she'd be furious, of course.

Not that he'd mind. She wouldn't have liked to hear it, but her angry face was one of her best.

The sound of an unsheathing sword reached his ears, sounding louder than it really was in the relative silence of the morning. This ritual was one she performed every day, a fact he'd discovered by chance several weeks prior. There was something exciting about watching this woman practice, something that appealed to him about the whole situation -- seeing her without her shields up, completely at peace, her sword held before her in a stance that spoke of perfect poise and immaculate skill.

Part of him almost wished she'd turn around and notice him, resting his chin in a hand, leaning onto a stone windowsill, his eyes watching her every move... yet, she never did. She stood perfectly still for a moment, gathering her concentration, and then her practice swings began. Slow, rhythmic -- the way the blade moved before her, cutting through the air without a sound... it was almost hypnotizing. She took several soft steps forward, her boots leaving imprints in the dew-damp grass, wholly concentrated on her task. If he were near enough to see into her eyes, he thought he knew exactly what it was he'd see.

He'd seen it before, after all.

_Confidence had always been one of his strong points; he had a sneaking suspicion that it was the primary reason Lord Sigurd had entrusted him to a task of this sort. After all, the others had all worn looks of varying distress at the prospect of being the one to approach this woman; there was simply something about the way she held herself, her hair whipping about her face in the breeze, her sword reflecting sunlight and the fire that shone in her eyes... it spoke volumes to them all, and the message they all seemed to receive from the sight was that challenging this woman would be a very, very bad idea. _

_He snorted. _

_All right, so she looked intimidating. She probably knew what she was doing; that kind of poise was the sort born of long years of patient practice. His hand tightened on his axe, and he spurred his mount forward, brows knitting with defiance and just a tinge of the offhand almost-arrogance he was so well known for exhibiting. The sound of the horse's hooves on the packed earthen road reached her ears; she turned her head toward the sound, and their eyes met. _

_The fire became a raging inferno, and for the first time, he felt just a slight bit of unease. He quelled that at once, allowing a confident smirk to slide onto his face. She turned, holding her sword out, holding his gaze with a defiant stare. This was a woman fighting for something, he thought almost absently. What it could be, he had no idea -- the girl wasn't from Verdane, that was for sure, so why she'd ally herself with them was a mystery to him. _

_Not that it mattered, he supposed, drawing himself up in the saddle. It was plain she'd be faster than him; given any amount of time she'd gain the upper hand. She seemed to be sizing him up the same way; part of him wondered what it was exactly she saw when she stared at him that way. Another part of him noted that she didn't look particularly impressed; he felt the slightest bit of annoyance at the realization. _

_"What the hell is a pretty girl like you doing, allying yourself with this lot?" _

_He blinked. He wasn't quite sure why he felt compelled to speak; clearly, from the look on her face, she hadn't been expecting it, either. For the first time, he saw a flicker of uncertainty in those eyes, a flicker quickly doused and replaced with hard determination... or perhaps it was defiance. Either way. _

_"None of your business," she snapped, her brows knitting, her knuckles tightening around the hilt of her sword. _

_"It'd be a shame to die here fightin' for something that doesn't even concern you," Lex pressed his luck, that flicker of uncertainty he'd seen driving his words, now. _

_"Little men should watch their mouths," she replied, her gaze darkening. "Don't presume to know what concerns me and what does not!" _

_He'd hit a nerve, there. He directed his mount with his knees, and she backed up slowly, knickering as though she could sense the gravity of the situation at hand. The black haired sword wielding woman followed, as he had been hoping; they were moving further away from the base at Genoa, giving Lord Sigurd and his comrades in arms the opportunity they required. _

_"Hey, now--" _

_"We're through speaking," she interrupted, her blade rising smoothly to point in his direction. He felt himself tense up, anticipating her first move. "You look confident enough. Can you match me, I wonder?" _

_He had no time to reply; she was just as fast as he'd thought she'd be, if not faster. He directed his horse with a skill that resulted from endless practice, barely parrying her first charge. Her blade swung forward; his axe caught the weapon with a metallic sound reminiscent of war and battle, sliding along the sword edge. He twisted his wrist a moment too late -- she anticipated his intentions, pulling the weapon free before he could loose it from her hand, and a curse nearly escaped his lips -- that had been his best chance at victory. He doubted she'd make the same mistake twice. _

_A faint look of something that might have been respected was noticeable for just a second, soon replaced with a hardened gaze and that fire he'd noticed early on. She sprung forward, ducking nimbly beneath his swing with an ease that was almost insulting. He leaned back, pulling hard on the reins; his horse reared up, avoiding the downward stroke -- it was the corresponding follow through that proved to be the start of his problems. _

_The blade scythed upward through the air, slicing neatly through his mount's flank; his armor barely spared him the same. Unfortunately, the maneuver he performed in the saddle to avoid her swing was rather impossible to do while one's horse is pawing at the air with its front hooves; with a whinny of pain and indignation, the animal pranced about with enough gusto to loose his hold on the reins. For the better, perhaps, as his opponent was already reading another swing that couldn't have avoided while simultaneously trying to deal with the horse; he managed to land rather elegantly as his mount all but threw him off -- at least, elegantly enough to avoid being sliced to ribbons a moment later. _

_She thrust forward, her blade driving purposely toward the gap beneath his plates of armor; he brought his axe up to deflect the blow, but even deterred this way she easily avoided his counterstroke. He did curse, then -- he'd underestimated just how quick she was. Matching her in this armor on foot... _

_"Not so confident now," she observed, hardly sounding winded at all. Lex glared at her. _

_"I thought we were done talking." _

_"We are," she agreed, springing forward with a swiftness that left no hope for even the most halfhearted defense; cold metal found its way through his armor, and he winced visibly as the blade cut deep, slicing a wound into him he was certain would leave a mark. If he were to survive this to begin with, something he was grudgingly noticing seemed less and less likely with every passing moment. Her blade swung forward again; he managed to avoid the blow, despite the burning pain across his chest and the distracting sensation of blood soaking into his underclothes. Things were getting tricky, now. _

_He took advantage of the brief second he had following her swing before she righted herself again, his axe swinging heavily through the air with enough force behind it to leave a faint whistling noise in its wake; again, he sliced through nothing, nearly stumbling with the force behind his missed blow. That was it, he thought faintly -- he wouldn't be able to recover from that in time, and she was already turning, blade raised, her eyes flashing with her imminent victory-- _

_"Aira!" _

_She froze, still as a stone statue, and Lex's eyes traced the length of the blade now held against his throat, close enough to draw the slightest trickle of blood. That had been Sigurd's voice... and what a welcome sound it was. _

_"Who...?" she didn't dare to turn, or move her blade from its position; her eyes never left his, and he was painfully aware of the sound of his heartbeat roaring in his ears. Whatever this was about, he thought, he hoped it was good. _

_"Stay your blade! We've--" _

_"I'm sorry, but for Shannan's sake..." _

_"Genoa castle has been taken, and Prince Shannan is in our care. It is no longer necessary for you to fight, so please...!" _

_She paused for a moment, her eyes glittering dangerously, before pulling the blade away from his throat and turning to face Sigurd directly. Lex let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding in the first place, his eyes burning a hole into that woman's back. _

_"If you're lying to me..." her voice was filled with a venomous warning. Lex blinked his eyes slowly, grimacing at the rather unpleasant sensation of a rather serious wound combined with stinging sweat. _

_She didn't even bother to spare a glance at her back toward him as she moved to follow Sigurd, and the line of words he muttered under his breath would have had Azel gaping at him with a mixture of both horror and respect. _

_"That woman..." he hissed, his eyes narrowing as he watched her back. _

Her slow practice swings continued for some length of time -- he never bothered to keep track of mundane things like the passing of minutes at times like this. He could have watched her forever, really, the rest of the world and their obligations be damned. She paced slowly forward, every step calculated, every swing perfected, her movements perfectly in time with each other. The sword arced downward, coming to a stop mid-swing, held aloft and pointing forward by a hand that betrayed not even the slightest of tremors.

Her warm up exercises complete, Lex allowed himself a silly grin at what would come next -- it was, after all, his favorite part. She sheathed her sword, and raised her arms over her head, stretching languidly. She always began with the arms, which made sense -- they were, after all, the extremities that would feel the brunt of her training. His eyes lingered over her body as she pulled her arms behind her head, her eyes closed, perfectly at peace. He couldn't quite miss the way her chest took prominence in that pose, and he thought that if she could read his thoughts right then, she'd have killed him without batting an eye or suffering a moment's hesitance.

She relaxed, and his eyebrows raised ever so slightly as she bent at the waist, reaching for her toes, stretching her well toned legs, her hair tumbling forward over her shoulders as she held the pose. After some time, she relaxed, pulling herself up. She linked her hands behind her back, pushing them backward and her chest conspicuously out again; her hair tumbled backward the other way as she leaned her head back, and Lex was painfully aware of the fact that he was grinning like a damn idiot, but he couldn't have torn his eyes away were it a matter of life and death.

And really, if she saw him, it'd be just that.

He'd been having this problem rather often, lately, even when the woman wasn't stretching herself into particularly flattering positions. It was silly to think nobody would have noticed, but he'd done just that -- after all, _she_ certainly didn't seem to notice, and that was really all that mattered to him. It had been somewhat of a surprise, then, the first time he'd been confronted about the sights his eyes seemed to enjoy lingering on of their own accord lately...

It was funny, actually. He'd always thought Azel was too busy staring at Lady Edin of Jungvy to notice where _his _eyes were.

_"I knew she'd be happy we came," Azel was noting, his voice taking on an airy tone that Lex recognized as his best friend at his happiest. Or most light headed, at least. "After she'd spoken with Sigurd, Lex -- did I tell you? She came right up to me -- she wanted to thank me, Lex, you know it? I didn't think she'd notice me on the battlefield, but..." _

_"Yeah, that's nice, Azel," Lex rolled his eyes, shaking his head with a hopeless sort of air. He was glad everything had worked out, really, and he always liked to see his friends happy, but _honestly, _he'd been babbling about Edin for how long, now? His eyes caught another sight, and he squinted to focus on the new object of his attention; Azel, of course, noticed the prolonged lack of interest in his part, and moved behind him to follow his gaze. _

_"Who's...?" _

_"Huh? Nothing. What were you--" _

_"Oh... isn't that the woman that gave you that--" _

_"It's no one," Lex interrupted hastily, shifting uncomfortably and turning his gaze back to Azel, who had a skeptical eyebrow raised in his direction. Lex glared at him, daring at him to say something. He did. _

_"Aira, right?" _

_"Maybe, why should I care what her name is?" Lex replied, impressed at his own ability to keep his voice flippant and unconcerned. _

_"Mm..." Azel shrugged. "Still bitter, maybe?" _

_"About what, my fool horse botching a fight?" _

_"Your horse. Right." _

_"...Shut up, Azel, you weren't even there to see it." _

_His friend was grinning, now, and Lex felt irritation worming its way into him; he was the one who was supposed to be teasing Azel, dammit -- it wasn't supposed to be the other way around! The whole situation was terribly backwards. _

_"You know, I've heard some of the guys talking about how pretty she is," Azel noted offhand, suddenly taking in interest in the floor between them, though it didn't hide the grin still apparent on his face. "In fact, Alec in particular--" _

_"Alec!" Lex snorted, crossing his arms. "Right, that's a good one, tell me another." _

_"Just saying, if you're interested, you'd better act fast!" _

_"I am _not _interested!" Lex bellowed furiously, not bothering to hide his indignation. "The only reason I'm _watching _her all the time is so that I can get a handle on her fighting -- I owe her one from before, that's all!" _

_"Heh..." _

_"I can take her in a fair fight," Lex glowered, arms crossed, the severe look still on his face. "And even if it _was _like that -- you're a good one to talk about acting fast!" _

_"Hey!" _

_"Edin'll be an old woman before you ever get up the guts to--" _

_"Shut up!" Azel hissed, his face suffusing with a blush that was delightfully typical of him; Lex knew an opening when he saw it, and pressed on. He clearly wasn't concerning himself with Aira any longer, at least, and that was the most important thing._

_Still, he'd have to be a little more careful -- Azel wouldn't say anything, he hoped, but really, why take chances? _

The conclusion of her stretching exercises was always vaguely disappointing, but he consoled himself with the fact that she'd be out here this same time tomorrow, like clockwork. The sun was beginning to assert its prominence over the day, now, drying the morning dew and evaporating the mist that had until then given the scene an almost ethereal air. She stood there, pulling her sword free once again, its blade reflecting the light brilliantly as she held it before her. Her face was pinched tightly with concentration, now, and she sprung forward at the air, the weapon moving as though it were an organic extension of her arm.

This was nothing like her slow, measured practice swings from before; the warm up was over, and she swung at the air as though fighting in a real battle, striking measured blows at some phantom foe only she could see. Her hair swung wildly with each thrust, and she gave off the sense of a barely contained inferno, so passionate were her blows -- but even so, she remained a perfect picture of grace, of elegance... the ideal swordfighter that he could have never been.

She paused, and he knew if he had been close enough, there would be a sheen of sweat on her skin, perhaps a trickle on her brow, and her chest rose and fell rapidly enough to be noticeable, though she was still hardly winded. Her endurance was a thing to behold, really. She started again, adding a measure of physical prowess to the blade strokes, and his well trained eyes caught the briefest glimpse of a bare thigh as she completed her latest set with a well aimed kick that would have caught an assailant before her full in the face. His eyebrows climbed a bit higher.

Another pause, and she raised her free hand to brush a few errant strands of hair from her face, her sword held at rest at her side, yet still giving off an air of absolute preparation. He doubted anything could have caught her by surprise when she took that stance; she seemed aware of everything around her, and exuded an air of confidence that suggested she could handle it all. She reminded him of himself, in that regard... except she pulled it off without any arrogance -- it was nothing more than a simple fact, with her.

It was goddamn sexy, is what it was.

Still, there were some things not even she could prepare for -- he'd confirmed that for himself, and she hadn't liked it one bit... and who could blame her?

_"You're doing a fine job carving patterns in a bunch of empty space," he'd announced, strolling into her line of sight as though he had hardly a care in the world. She paused, sword held aloft, her eyes narrowed with annoyance and following him closely. _

_"Would you rather I gave you another scar?" she inquired mildly, a hard glitter in her eyes. He smirked in response. _

_"I was going to ask if you were up for a rematch, actually," Lex responded flippantly, his eyes sliding away from hers. _

_"You're joking." _

_"I'm not." _

_"...Fine," she spat, tossing her hair furiously over her shoulder. "I'd be happy to teach you another lesson." _

_"You know, I like a little confidence in a woman," Lex noted in an offhand way; predictably, her gaze darkened to an almost frightening degree, her face a still mask that just barely concealed her indignant fury at the observation. _

_"Let's get this over with," she growled, pointing her blade toward him in a pose he couldn't help but recognize. "I have better things to do than waste my time besting ignorant men with loud mouths." _

_"Touchy, I see..." Lex withdrew his axe, his smirk still in place. He'd been studying her style for quite some time, now -- to say he was confident was somewhat of an understatement. He was absolutely certain, this time... she wasn't going to make a fool of him twice. _

_She didn't bother to respond; she sprung forward in an all to familiar way. Lex easily sidestepped -- he'd had the foresight to forego the bulk of his armor; she already knew how to get past that, after all, and the added maneuverability he enjoyed without it was really the key to beating this woman. She seemed surprised at his movement, but recovered so quickly he couldn't really be sure. _

_He shrugged the thought away, recognizing the fact that this fight would require all of his concentration. She turned back toward him, her blade whistling through the air, and thrust forward with a furious hiss; he caught the blade easily, abruptly halting her stroke, and shoved them both forward. Her eyes widened at the unexpected movement; he had recognized from the start that he had an advantage strength wise, and he fully intended to use it in full. _

_Of course, she regained her balance with ease, withdrawing her sword and moving smoothly back to an offensive stance, her blade swinging first low, then arcing higher, attempting to catch him off balance and unaware; he'd seen her perform this trick, however, and he was already moving to intercept the higher blow. She _did _look surprised, now -- clearly she hadn't expected him to be so familiar with her style. He allowed himself a smirk; she glowered furiously, displeased with this show of confidence. _

_"So you've improved," she noted, their weapons locked together, her arms shaking just slightly against his superior strength. _

_"You have no idea," Lex responded, withdrawing his axe suddenly enough to send her stumbling forward before she could react to the sudden lack of resistance against her blade; she gasped harshly, turning with the hopes of catching his midsection unguarded; what her blade met instead was the upper edge of his axe; he turned the weapon with a flick of his wrist -- a technique he might have bested her with during their first fight had be been better prepared -- but she was stronger than he had supposed, and the blade did not wrench free from her hand as he'd hoped it might. _

_Instead, she withdrew the weapon and darted forward, her anger showing through on her features, now. He grinned; he hadn't expected her to try such a risky maneuver. It was exactly what he wanted, though... _

_Her blade arced forward, a blow that would caused a considerable amount of damage had it connected -- he wondered vaguely if the woman had forgotten they were on the same side, now, and merely sparring -- but he backpedaled easily before it could land. She expected him to counter with a swing from his axe, of course, but instead, he reached forward with his free hand, gripping her forearm hard enough to elicit a gasp of pain, and yanked her forcibly toward him, bringing his axe up at the same time. _

_If she'd been someone he wanted to kill, she'd have been dead, and the look on her face as she realized it was something he'd been wanting to see for quite sometime now. It was every bit as satisfying as he'd hoped it would be, in fact. _

_She glared at him furiously over the axe held at her throat, her sword hanging ineffectively in a hand to her side. He held her there for a moment, then smiled, releasing her with a shove that sent her stumbling backward, though again she regained her balance quickly. _

_"I win," Lex announced jovially. If looks could kill... well. The look she sent him was murder in the form of a facial expression. _

_"You got lucky," Aira insisted, sheathing her sword, a slight flush on her cheeks -- and not entirely from the exertion of the fight. _

The fact of the matter was, neither one of them liked to lose. Well, no one _liked _to lose, really -- they were just poorer sports about the whole thing, he supposed, watching her launch into her next set of exercises with narrowed eyes. Defensive maneuvers, now. Guarded strokes meant to leave the fewest openings for a counter attack, conservative thrusts and slices that could do enough damage on their own without putting herself in danger. Her long black hair swung wildly as she feinted and dodged imaginary attacks, her blade flashing forward to catch her would-be opponents unaware.

She would have been -- _was _-- amazing with any sword, of course, but the blade she held now truly completed the picture. A fine sword for a fine woman with more than enough skill to wield it; though the blade wasn't particularly heavy, nor unwieldy. It was perfect for her; she'd slain countless foes with it, employing the same techniques she was practicing unwittingly before his very eyes. Her defensive strokes became more daring as he watched, eventually becoming all out offensive moves; he couldn't help but grin. Fighting defensively had never been her style, and it was rarely something he saw her doing on the battlefield -- it was a testament to her dedication that she practiced them so rigorously each morning along with everything else.

Her movements slowed, and ceased, and he saw her toss her hair back, noticing strands of it sticking stubbornly against that thin, perfectly shaped neck... she moved a hand up to brush the sweaty strands away, and he could see the irritated look on her face from where he watched. She was breathing hard, now, and he knew her daily practice was nearly at an end. Her sword seemed to shimmer faintly at her side; the magnificent blade was much improved over the one she'd bested him with at their first meeting.

Like it or not, she had him to thank for that weapon... and really, she hadn't liked it one bit.

_He watched her carefully, though he remained a good distance away; she hardly needed his assistance to dispatch any of the fools that dared to wander within her striking distance, after all. Still, she seemed to notice his presence, and he wasn't sure if he should be pleased about that or not. Her eyes flickered toward him every so often, and he noticed how her face seemed to take on another shade of annoyance every time she confirmed his presence. _

_Well. A cloth bound bundle strapped next to him in the saddle renewed his confidence. She'd been bitter at him since that day, always avoiding his gaze, pointedly refusing to speak to him. Such a stubborn woman... but really, he had never been one to back away from a challenge. _

_After all, with the score between them settled, he'd had time to think about other pressing issues -- such as how damn gorgeous she looked, on or off the battlefield, moving like a deadly wind among enemy troops or laughing with the friends she'd made in their army during times of piece, completely unaware of his eyes watching her from afar. He edged his mount further toward her, and her gaze caught him again; she was scowling openly, now, clearly annoyed at his attentions. _

_He approached her anyway; the immediate danger had passed, a lull in battle left in its wake. There were no enemy troops in sight, and really... he was tired of waiting for the right moment. He'd never been a very patient person. _

_Besides, she could scowl all she wanted -- he got the distinct feeling she'd change her tune shortly. _

_"Hey there, Aira," he greeted her coolly; she glared at him, one hand on her hip, her sword clenched in the other. _

_"Lex. What do you want?" _

_"Cold, as usual..." he reprimanded her, feigning a hurt look; she rolled her eyes, though he couldn't help but notice the faint pink color in her cheeks. Of course, that could have just been from all the fighting earlier, but where was the fun in assuming that? _

_"If you've got nothing to say, then I'm going," she replied angrily, taking a few steps past him to do just that. He drew his horse around to follow her, remaining by her side -- she couldn't very well hope to outrun a horse. This knowledge, however, only seemed to make her angrier. _

_"Well, now, hold on -- Actually, I have something for you, here." _

_"Really. Well, you can go ahead and give it to someone other girl -- I don't need your pointless trinkets!" _

_"A trinket, huh?" he held out the clothed package he'd kept close to him all this time; she glanced at it in an almost insultingly offhand way, clearly uninterested. "Well, if you insist..." he slid the cloth away, revealing a beautiful blade -- a blade nice enough to make her mouth drop open when she saw it, at least. It was rather satisfying, to be honest. _

_"You... that's--!" _

_"I suppose if you don't want it, I'd better just go sell it. I can't use it, after all." _

_"That's the Hero's Sword!" Aira managed, her eyes wide. "Where... where did you find--!" _

_"Hmm... seems like you might like it, after all..." Lex teased her, holding the sword up in front of his face, out of her reach, making a show of examining it critically. She sputtered at his side, her mouth working though she couldn't find the words. Very satisfying, Lex decided, grinning at her reaction. _

_"It's..." _

_"That's right. The legendary Hero's Sword," Lex nodded. "Here. It's yours." _

_He held it out toward her, amusement hidden poorly in his eyes; for once, however, she was too enthralled to take offense. She reached out to take it with an entirely irresistible air of girlish excitement, her breath escaping her in a rush as her hands closed around the hilt. _

_"What a beautiful sword..." she breathed softly, running her eyes over its length. _

_"It suits you, then," Lex smiled, and her head snapped up in surprise -- but he wasn't about to wait around for her reaction. He spurred his horse forward, and it took all of his willpower not to look back when she called for him to wait. _

She sheathed her sword, running a hand through those long black tresses, looking satisfied as she did every morning after her practice. She flipped her hair forward, bending over slightly, letting it fall over her shoulders and hang toward the floor over her head, allowing the cool morning air to brush lightly across the back of her neck.

Her face was slightly flushed when she stood up straight, again, and her eyes wandered back toward the castle. She had only to look up, just a bit, and she'd see him there, staring boldly at her from his quarters, and for a brief, thrilling moment, it almost looked as though she'd do just that.

But like every morning before, her eyes remained fixed straight ahead, and her gait carried her smoothly back toward the castle, where she disappeared inside, out of his sight at last. He exhaled slowly, remaining at the window for a little while thereafter. People would be getting out of bed, now, heading to the hall for breakfast; Aira would be one of the first to arrive. People would raise their eyebrows at her and her disheveled appearance, and he grinned when he thought of the glare they'd receive in response.

He stood, and turned away from the window, making his way toward the door and the stairwell that led to the hall below. They would stare, of course, because they simply didn't understand; she'd meet his eyes and think he was just like the rest of them, but he didn't mind. She had her secrets, and he had his.

Maybe tomorrow, she'd notice him, staring at her from the window with that wistful grin on his face.

Maybe.


End file.
